


a rock on the shore

by sunflower_8



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Hating Everything Hours, Hinata Hajime Please Discuss Your Goddamn Emotions, Minor Character Death, Minor Komahina, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:15:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_8/pseuds/sunflower_8
Summary: it is a false sentiment when he knows there are fourteen other people on the island, but he still wonders when he will stop feeling lonely.(a hinata character study set a year after everyone woke up and supposedly achieved contentment.)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	a rock on the shore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mirror_Face](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirror_Face/gifts).



hinata’s parents never took him to the beach when he was a kid.

he understands why, even if the sand feels cool and comforting underneath him as he settles on a rock on the shore. his mother was a historian, the sole reason hinata got good marks in history, and cities rich with sightseeing locations always appealed to her more. beaches repulsed his father, really, because the lawyer never knew how to relax.

sitting there now, the starry sky indicating that it was an early hour of the morning, hinata can understand that. 

it doesn’t change the fact that he resents them, to some degree. he hates that the history he once struggled to remember comes easy to him; he wishes his father never taught him how to work yourself to death, to focus _focus_ **_focus_** until everything that once mattered blurs around you.

hinata was part of that blur, once. but his father’s world isn’t like that anymore, because his family is most likely dead underneath the wreckage of the destruction hinata created.

he resents that, too.

he tucks his knees to his chest, following the constellations in the skies. there are thousands he can recall, but he attempts to quiet his intelligence for the sake of actually  _ trying  _ for once. hinata hardly has to try these days for things to work out, for solutions to come to him with clinical simplicity, for all the complexities of life to be reduced to white noise.

_ although,  _ he thinks sardonically,  _ trying to get komaeda nagito out of the coma was a bitch. _

he resents him as well, and he  _ especially  _ hates the tentative smile he gave when his plans with the psychodives worked.

now that everything is easy, everyone is awake, there’s nothing to do. sure, everyone is still struggling to recover, but apologies have been exchanged and they are all more vibrant now. the slightly brighter tint in everyone’s hue has been a blessing to hinata. there’s still a risk someone will snap, but he can consider the fact that nobody has in  _ months _ a mercy.

the horizon views him as a condemned villain, a tragic messiah who only caused the end of the world with bloodied fingertips, bruised bodies, and an alternate identity. even then, he muses as he breaks contact with the judging sky, he’s deserved a little mercy.

that mercy is easily stripped away when hinata remembers that _ there is nothing to do anymore. _

there are people who he wants to chase, intertwining fingers together in hopes that he may finally uncover their stories. these are the people who he resents, who he  _ loves,  _ with every piece of himself, a self that still has the knowledge of yielding hatred to affection. he is loyal to them all and he is loyal to nothing, and he revels in the idea that understanding them is the single hardest task he will complete.

still, what does he do then? there are colorful origami cranes scattered in the kitchen, made with deft hands to cope, but hinata thinks the only beauty in them is the slight inaccuracies, the lack of perfect geometry to create a paper bird. so, he does not attempt, even when komaeda asks him to, promising that simply  _ watching  _ the other is enough for him.

he doesn’t dance, even when mioda strums a chord and saionji grabs his hand.

(he serves himself some lemonade and sways, resenting the memories that parties bring him. even when mioda sings his favorite song, he does nothing.)

he doesn’t take photos, even when koizumi smiles and says he has a knack for it.

(he pretends his hands shake when he insists that he isn’t meant to be in the group photo. even then, the image is perfect.)

he keeps himself away from the others in subtle ways, because the only possible way to absolve himself from the guilt (of letting them all down, being a monster, never knowing what to say) is to be  _ human _ . 

but what does he do then?

he doesn’t cry, because he doesn’t want the moonlight to make his tears shimmer in a beautiful way. when he sobs, he wants it to be ugly, he wants his composed face to break down in vulnerability as he tugs at his hair, wishing that even if he couldn’t be human, he could  _ at least  _ have this.

but, if there is one thing he resents the most about kamukura izuru,

it is the fact that, with him, he will never be vulnerable again.

even when komaeda gives him chocolate, or kuzuryuu points out he looks upset. even when tsumiki has to help him sort out the aftereffects of a major brain surgery, or naegi tells him he is the most reliable person he knows. he’ll never get his humanity back.

his hands shake a little as he makes shapes in the sand. 

it is a false sentiment when he knows there are fourteen other people on the island, but he still wonders when he will stop feeling lonely.

because, even under a criticizing sky that chooses to accept him despite scrutiny,

he is still so alone.

(a hug won’t fix it, neither will a kiss on the cheek. even seeing  _ her  _ face again won’t fix it. nobody knows the mind of someone who knows everything, and compared to himself, hinata feels as though he knows nothing,

and when you reject yourself, leave yourself in the woods at the mercy of a pack of wolves, the loneliness only gets stronger

and what does hinata do then?)

the circle he traces sets himself as the epicenter, and he can calculate the equation to the tangent line. he feels the sudden want to throw himself into the ocean, to feel salt water burning away his skin, but he’s pulled too many people out of the sea to want to desire it. the sight of a corpse after all this time would be terrifying,

and he doesn’t really want to be a corpse. he’s sick of death, sick of people playing god when the divine creature he doesn’t even believe in looks nothing like a teenager with pink pigtails.

he just thinks that maybe floating in the ocean would be nice. nice enough that he could maybe find a purpose.

he hears footsteps, and looks up to meet komaeda’s concerned face. hinata stands up and shakes his head, and neither of them talk on the journey back to his cabin. they split apart at the end, and hinata resents the feeling of cold wood underneath his palm.

his bed is free from the distaste of the world, and yet,

(vulnerability is not in your code)

he feels so, so alone.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is gifted to mirror_face!!! hi mirror_face!!!
> 
> to briefly synopsize the process of making this fic: i scanned ur fics to see what you liked in a fic, i wrote it, re-read your fics, realized this is the REALLY SIMILAR as your first fic to me, i stared at my screen for fifteen minutes (read: over two weeks) in emotional torment and disarray before determining that i should try to write a shuichi fic. you then may notice that this is not a shuichi fic. suffice to say, i do not, in fact, know how to write shuichi fics. 
> 
> thus, the panic began to set in.
> 
> i was reassured that this was not a horrible fic, proceeded to finish this fic fully (as in, edit it) with the hope that you would still like it (if not, i can attempt to rectify that error when i come to it) and these are the events that bring us up to yesterday. 
> 
> however, i was too dummy to foresee the event that i would FUCKING FORGET TO POST IT because i’m an IDIOT, a FOOL, a BUFFOON, blinded by the upcoming activity known as sleepy.
> 
> so alas, it is a day later than what i wanted, two weeks later than what i really wanted, and i am easily the worst person to ever exist.
> 
> all that chatter aside, thank you for being so nice, i’m so sorry that this is a disappointment of a fic, i really hope you still liked it. take care <3
> 
> (also, note to say, please please read mirror's fics they're less of a disaster than me and also it's really really good content)


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